Bella Notte
by Muddy Poodle
Summary: And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.


_When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations,  
it's not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.  
- Twilight_

If there's one thing I've learned, it's that Hollywood has it all wrong.

I blame Hollywood for a lot of things these days: for the exponential rise in divorce rates among couples vying instead for the idealistic, picture-perfect relationship; for those ridiculous fairytales romanticizing the proverbial riding off into the sunset; for condemning the toy hauler motorhome in favor of the white picket-fenced house with the grossly unnecessary walk-in closet. But most importantly, I blame Hollywood for selling us the outrageous, tragically inaccurate falsehood that before you die your life flashes before your eyes.

Here's the real truth: not once in all the times I've stared death in the face have I ever seen my life fast forward before me so perfectly.

My heart was tattooing itself against my chest as my feet stumbled their way through the thickets, tripping and fumbling in their steps. The shoelaces on my tired old sneakers chose that moment to come undone, sending me skidding palms first to the muddy forest floor. Now was a good a time as ever to curse my natural clumsiness, but adrenaline kicked in and I was up on my feet again in no time.

"_Bel_-la." The voice—so much nearer than I'd originally thought—was irresistibly musical, coaxing me back with the softest of sugared tones lolling in sweet honey.

Panic swelled in my chest in the place where my lungs should be drawing air. No matter what I did, I realized, I could not escape my fate. No matter how long I ran or how far, he would catch me as effortlessly as he always did. So, what was the point of trying? Why do we run, then? Why do we run towards the illusion of hope when hope itself is all but lost?

I suppose it's because that's what it means to be human.

"Bella."

I collided with what felt like a solid stone wall before falling heavily to the ground. My first instinct as I looked up would have been to shield the bright patches of sunlight with my hand, but the hunter was towering over me now, blocking all vestiges of the sun from my eyes with his lanky, rock-hard body.

"No," I panted automatically.

"Don't be afraid," he assured in silky smooth tones. If I hadn't known any better, the sound of his voice alone would have reassured me.

I dragged myself desperately away from him on my elbows, but from the look of cruel and delighted amusement flickering over his frozen features, I realized he and I both knew what a futile attempt it was.

"Please," I whispered pleadingly. "_Please…_you don't have to do this…"

He threw back his head and laughed a crude, bark-like cry of mirth that didn't suit him. It must have been those damned human survival instincts kicking in again, because there's really no other logical reason as to why I took his momentary lapse of attention to scramble to my feet and attempt another fruitless escape from death.

His marble fingers were around my throat in an instant and I choked, my lungs bleeding for air. "Edward," I tried to rasp, but he tightened his grip around my neck, his face devoid of all amusement now. My eyes bulged frantically to his, desperately seeking some semblance of amber gold familiarity, but the hunter was staring coldly back at me through orb-like, milky gray eyes.

And then with startling but unsurprising strength, he flung me away from him with crushing force. The fleeting period of weightlessness as I soared through the air was met by a dull crack as I smashed into a tree, the broad trunk of the spruce snapping threateningly as I landed on the ground in a daze.

I was too stunned to feel the pain; my mind hadn't registered it yet and for at least that I was grateful. His footfalls should have been soundless but instead, his approach was signified by the gentle crunching of dry leaves beneath his feet. I raised my head and blinked woozily through bleary eyes. I was surprised at how far he'd flung me; he was so very far away.

The footsteps were slow and steady as the hunter walked towards me through the haze—I could feel the earth tremor beneath his feet—and as the dim outline of his body grew larger and larger, I realized I was going to die.

I had eluded death for so long, but the chase seemed to have finally caught up with me, and let me tell you: it isn't one bit like Hollywood's glorious light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel garbage. In the split second it takes for the gravity of death to hit you, your awe is cracked wide open and you begin to see things differently.

A cheery sliver of sun peeked through a canopy of trees—had it always been so golden? Why had I never appreciated the subtle silence before? How many times had I walked through this very forest without ever once wondering why the tree by the brier patch of rhododendron had a gaping hole in its trunk? Was there a God? Was there an afterlife, or was this the end?

Even worse—as if anything could possibly be worse than this—was the jolt of panic stabbing my chest when I realized the proverbial reel that was supposed to be fast forwarding through various flashes of my life was either missing or simply and irrevocably nonexistent.

I tried to say the goodbyes on my own, but the panic had taken such a hold that it was like thumbing through a photo album with half the pictures missing. _Charlie. Chief Swan._ I'd said "good morning" today, hadn't I? And was it baseball he liked to watch on TV, or was it college football? Had I already responded to Renée's latest email, or would she be forever waiting for my reply?

And Edward…

The hunter stood above me now, and even though my nose was pressed into the fresh earth, I could still smell the sweet aromatic scent from his skin that I used to breathe for so much.

This simple reminder brought me strength, and I was able to find my voice for one last desperate plea for my life. "Edward…" The word rolled off my tongue like a pleasantly sweet aftertaste. "Please…don't…don't do this, Edward."

Hungry eyes—still a distant gray—darted to my throat as I struggled to sit up and brace my upper body against the tree. It was only then that I felt the warm blood trickling tantalizingly down my neck; his steel grip had dug his fingernails into my flesh.

A sudden movement startled me. I froze as the hunter knelt excitedly before me into a crouch. A pleasant, half-crooked smile slowly spread across the width of his mouth, widening alarmingly until it wasn't a smile at all, but a sickening display of glistening white teeth.

I stared without breathing into his eyes, and Edward Cullen stared just as steadily back.


End file.
